


With Luck (Turn it Down Remix)

by Red



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Because Actually the AU is that He Could Die From that At All, Darwin is Alive, First Time, M/M, Overhearing Sex, Remix, Telepathy, anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:32:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/pseuds/Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was difficult enough road getting this far with Alex. You really didn't need the telepathic interference, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Luck (Turn it Down Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Volume](https://archiveofourown.org/works/425276) by [Cesare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Cesare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare) in the [remixmadness2014](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixmadness2014) collection. 



Maybe going at it a third time in as many hours is getting excessive. But hey, they’re young, right? They’re young, Armando’s got the world’s shortest refractory period, and he notices that Alex sure isn’t complaining. 

Anyway, it’s already took long enough, them just getting this far. They’d had a pretty good thing going back in the compound, like they’d’ve got together soon. They got on well, they actually talked, and Alex was pretty much constantly touching him. But then-- 

Then, he doesn’t like to think of it all too much. He doesn’t like to think of it ever. Any amount of time spent gathering up your component atoms is too much, though admittedly the bit where you restructure your nervous system in front of a couple terrified Pentagon officials is kind of a laugh. 

But what it all did teach him was this: even if you _can_ adapt, you only have a limited time on this planet. Once, he might’ve waited for Alex to make a move for--well. Possibly, forever. 

After all _that_ mess, though? Three weeks was time enough. 

Alex surges under him, flipping them over again, and he laughs. Been that sort of night, all push and tug, and he relaxes into the demanding shove of Alex's kiss. It’s not like he needs Alex to let up to breathe, and letting him set the pace sometimes isn't so bad. He pulls at Alex, grinds his dick up against his ass. 

They haven't even got as far as _mentioning_ penetration, and while Alex groans like the idea just came to him and he thinks it's a great one, what they've been up to so far--yeah, they can just keep doing this for a couple more weeks. 

He’s thrusting and holding on as Alex rolls his hips. Alex stops kissing and starts attacking Armando's neck like he's aiming to make up for a lot of lost hickie-leaving time, and all signs are pointing to a quick end to round three when _it_ happens. 

There’s no warning. And, for a second, Armando doesn’t even know what came out his mouth. It’s just like one minute, you’ve got two hands full of ass and your neck’s under full assault; the next, your boyfriend-or-whatever is sitting up, staring at you like you grew another head.

Well. Not _impossible_ , but usually Alex looks a lot more impressed. 

“What?” 

“Uh, seriously? _What_? What do you mean, _what_ ,” Alex replies. 

Okay, uh. Armando goes back: lap full of Alex, some necking, him saying “shit,” and then, “ _Erik_ ”--

“Oh my god,” Armando says, laughing. Serious, what else can he say? Alex has a face like a guy witnessing a four-car collision, and Armando sorta wishes he could turn back into particles. 

“Yeah,” Alex says. 

_He’s_ not laughing, though. He actually looks upset. 

Armando sits up, trying to think of what to say. 

Ever since he’s been here at least, the whole Prof-and-Erik thing has been going on. And not quietly, either. They weren’t subtle for the ride to Richmond, so it’s not a _surprise_ or anything, but lately? Lately, it’s only got louder and louder. 

They probably do have to thank those two, though. With the Prof around, it’s DEFCON 1 for gay sex in the mansion--if you weren’t thinking of it already, you were definitely going to every Thursday night. Armando just feels sorry for anyone who’s not at least _flexible_. Poor Raven keeps threatening to find a wife and move into a farmhouse with some kids, and no one could blame her if she did. Awkward enough hearing your teachers at it, much less hearing your own brother shouting about whatever it is Erik’s doing--which, yeah, everyone knows too _way_ much about, as well. The Prof’s enthusiasm is so ridiculous that it’s kind of surprising this didn’t happen earlier tonight. 

Armando knows Alex has definitely been on the receiving end of the whole “someone needs to work on his _own_ damn training” thing with the Prof’s telepathy before, because who hasn’t. So it’s strange to see Alex so _weird_ about it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting his hand on Alex’s shoulder. At least it doesn’t get shrugged off, that’s something. “Come on, man. _Erik_?” 

Alex shoots him a look, like, _yeah, that’s what you said, moron_. Armando sighs. 

“Okay, first of all. He’s terrifying,” he tries. Alex doesn’t say a word, like he’s genuinely pissed.

“And second of all, he’s gotta be like forty,” he adds, scrambling. They’ve figured out that his mutation can sometimes make his mind quicker if he needs it, but he suspects this situation is pushing the limits. 

Alex frowns at him. “Hey, _I’ll_ probably be forty one day,” he grumbles.

The _probably_ , Armando could do without, but all he can do is add it to the growing list of Shit They Need to Get Around to Talking About. 

“Well, yeah. But you won’t be--” Armando thinks of a word that encompases whatever it is Erik is. 

It’s not easy. He missed out on a lot when he was busy reconstructing his musculoskeletal system. He knows, whatever happened, Erik’s almost like a scary dad at least for Alex and Sean. And he knows Alex looks up to Erik, too, which is probably what this is all about. 

“You won’t be my gym teacher,” he eventually says. “Alex, come on. You know it’s the Prof, he’s been driving us all crazy.” 

“Yeah,” Alex admits, sounding less stressed out, embarrassed instead. “But aren’t you supposed to like, be immune to that stuff?” he adds, waving his hand at his head in the usual ‘telepathic stuff’ gesture. 

Armando shrugs. “Not something I really control,” he says. “And besides, maybe I was a little distracted.”

Alex raises his eyebrows. But he’s letting Armando get a little closer. “Yeah, and I’m sure _that’s_ how your powers work,” he grumbles, but he hooks a leg behind one of Armando’s and tugs him over. 

“Trust me,” Armando says. “Anyway, you think anything could tear Lensherr off the Prof’s lap? Not happening.” 

Alex makes a face like he’s trying not to laugh. “Some defense,” he says, and Armando kisses him.

“Need a better one? How about there’s nothing that could tear _me_ off of _you_ ,” he tries, and Alex starts snickering and kisses him back.

“Fine,” he says, “fine. I’ll let you have this one.” 

_Tell it to the Prof_ , Armando almost says, but he isn’t about to push his luck when Alex is back in the round-three sort of mood. “Hey, all I need,” he tells him instead, and Alex grips him tighter. 

“Lucky you’re so good-looking,” Alex says, and Armando grins. 

“Yeah,” he replies, kissing Alex’s shoulder. There’s no way he’s going for the neck anytime this decade. “I’m pretty lucky, all right.”


End file.
